


A Little Piece of Heaven

by doublemetalaxis



Category: Shaman King
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Murder, Necromancy, Necrophilia, References to Illness, Sex, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Violent Thoughts, avenged sevenfold - Freeform, run away now, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublemetalaxis/pseuds/doublemetalaxis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Eliza dies, Johann falls down the rabbit hole.  After entering the Shaman Fight and realizing what he's done, he spends an afternoon remembering his journey to hell and back.</p><p>He wishes he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Piece of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This story is literally everything I avoid when I read other people's works.

Johann Faust sat at his dining table, thinking over his long story.  The room was void of people, living or dead.  Not even his dog was there; Frankensteiny was holed up in his closet to wait out the thunderstorm.  The table was also bare, save for a half-empty  bottle of vodka.  He watched the sky idly, listening to the rain hitting the windows.  It reminded him of tears.

_Before the story begins, is it such a sin,_

_For me to take what's mine, until the end of time_

_We were more than friends, before the story ends,_

_And I will take what's mine, create what God would never design_

 

* * *

 

Eliza was her name.  Faust remembered loving her for as long as they had known each other.  She had fair skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair, much like himself, and had spent her entire childhood bedridden with an incurable illness.  He had studied ceaselessly, relying on his family’s extensive medical knowledge and every textbook he could find to provide his reason for living.  Finally, he had found a cure for her.  At last they could have their happily ever after.  He remembered getting down on one knee, and the way her eyes had brimmed with happy tears as she said that one beautiful word.  “ _Yes._ ”

 

_Our love had been so strong for far too long,_

_I was weak with fear that something would go wrong,_

They had opened a clinic together and bought a beautiful house.  They had a dog, a big male Rottweiler they had adopted together. Their days were spent treating patients, but nights were all theirs.  He remembered the feeling of her lips on his, soft and delicate. Her skin had been so soft; it reminded him of the pillows on their bed.  She was warm and made the most beautiful sounds Johann had ever heard.  She had been a wonderful woman, he thought.  A tear fell from his left eye and he reached up to brush it away as he thought of their time together as living souls.  Another trickled down anyway.  He left it.

_Before the possibilities came true,_

_I took all possibility from you_

One night as they lay next to each other, they had heard a noise from downstairs.  He sat up immediately.  “ _Wait,_ ” she tried to tell him.  “ _I have to make sure they stay away from you._ ” He had said, hastily pulling on pants and grabbing the closest thing to a weapon he could think of: the long, sharp forceps from the first-aid kit under their bed. He should have taken her advice and stayed.  God, how he wished he had stayed.  But instead, he kissed her gently on the lips and slipped out the door.  He walked downstairs checking every room, but found nothing.  Until he heard the shot.

 

_Must have stabbed him fifty fucking times_

_I can't believe it_

_Ripped his heart out right before his eyes_

_Eyes over easy, eat it, eat it, eat it_

 

He had run upstairs as fast as his legs would allow him, and found his wife slumped over in bed with a bullet hole through her otherwise unmarked forehead. Then he had gotten up, fetched the first-aid kit and his spare surgical equipment out of the bathroom cabinet, and hurried back to Eliza’s side.  He pushed her down and started cutting.  He got the bullet out and stitched her back up, grabbing the defibrillators and shocking her chest again, again, _again_ , but she remained unresponsive. He had felt desperately for a pulse, but there was none.  Eliza was gone.  He could not bring her back. Or, he had thought, perhaps he could.  But his time for thought had been cut short when the robber reentered the room to remove the body. Surprise showed through his black mask as his eyes widened at the sight before him, but the unidentified criminal had sealed his fate as soon as his feet crossed the doorway. Within seconds, Johann was on him with the first sharp tool he had found, a scalpel made for cutting deep incisions, stabbing him everywhere he could reach.  _Stab._ An eyeball. _Stab._ His chest. _Stab. Stab. Stab._ He had not stopped even when the man expired and he was covered in blood, but kept going until he realized both bodies in the room had gone cold. But it mattered not. Nothing mattered anymore except Eliza and his ancestor’s research.  He would give up anything for her.  He would give up everything for her.  Vaguely, he remembered stumbling to his wife’s side and brushing her hair back.  He had leaned down, kissed her forehead, and then fallen unconscious on the floor.

_You had my heart, at least for the most part_

_'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime,_

_We fell apart, let's make a new start_

_'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah yeah_

_But baby don't cry_

For eight years after that, he had worked, and worked, and worked.  He had toiled obsessively, rarely eating and sleeping even less. He had to bring her back. Eliza had been the only thought on his mind in all his waking moments.  He knew he couldn’t let her go, or he would lose his whole world and the few remaining shreds of his sanity.  So he worked.  Within a year, he’d already discovered things he never wanted to see again, but he persevered. He’d even dug up her body one night at some point during the sixth year, but he’d had to strip her flesh. “ _I’m sorry,_ ” he’d whispered gently as he immersed her flesh in acid.  He remembered having to look away even then, and closed his mind’s eye for a moment to have another drink.  But he’d kept her skeleton. He remembered trying to bring back her soul at the end of the eighth year…  He had laid her skeletal remains on an altar and drawn the circle around it.  The candles had flickered on and off, on and off, and the electric lights in the room had burst immediately. Then, there had been a warm breeze, and suddenly Johann’s field of vision had been transformed into a field of pure white.  He’d thought it had been her at the time, but it had only been a fragment of her beautiful soul. Even when he had regained his sight, her bones had not stirred.  But he had refused to see it.  “ _Eliza,_ ” he had whispered.  He had held her corpse close against him and pumped his mana into the skeleton, giving it flesh if only in appearance.

_She was never this good in bed even when she was sleeping_

_Now she's just so perfect I've never been quite so fucking deep in_

_It goes on and on and on,_

_I can keep you looking young and preserved forever,_

_With a fountain spray on your youth whenever_

All day he had stayed with her, cooking for her, sitting outside with her.  On one occasion, he had tried to talk to her, but she did not respond.  “ _How does it feel, Eliza?  To be here again?_ ”  Deep down, he had anticipated her silence.  But he couldn’t accept it.  He had to have her back.  Eight years had taken a toll on them both, and he was determined to have her back alive and well.  She did have a soul.  She had to. That night, he had taken her back to their bedroom.  Undoing the buttons on her nurse’s dress, he had helped her out of it before stripping himself.  Coming briefly out of his memory, Johann abandoned his glass and took a deep drink from the bottle before he remembered what had come next.  He remembered kissing her again, but her lips were no longer warm. They hadn’t been cold either. Eliza had been the same temperature as the air around them, but he ignored it.  _She **is**_ _back_ , he had thought.  _This is **my**_ _Eliza.  The same one I’ve always had_.  It hadn’t been and he had known, but he needed her so badly it was the least he could do to delude himself.  The entire time, she had simply lain there, blue eyes empty and body unresponsive.  He had tried to touch her, but she no longer felt real.  So he continued to pretend, trying everything in his power to get her to respond.  And when he had finished, when he had realized what he had done, he let out a wail more anguished than any man or beast he had yet heard.  That night, Johann had sobbed and apologized until sleep finally took him, begging for forgiveness from Eliza, man, and any god that would hear him.  He knew he would have none.

_'Cause I really always knew that my little crime_

_Would be cold that's why I got a heater for your thighs_

_And I know, I know it's not your time_

_But bye, bye_

_And a word to the wise when the fire dies_

_You think it's over but it's just begun_

_But baby don't cry_

In the morning, Eliza had been a skeleton again.  Johann looked at her and, remembering what he had done, promptly retched over the side of his bed.  Dressing himself quickly, he fetched supplies and cleaned it up, and though it had hurt him to look at her again, he once again gave her flesh.  She had gotten up and looked at him, and his heart had stopped at what he saw.  In her eyes, deep in the blue orbs the color of the ocean, he had seen life.  Johann cried.

_You had my heart, at least for the most part_

_'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime,_

_We fell apart, let's make a new start_

_'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah yeah_

_But baby don't cry_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review! (I'm so sorry.)


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